She chewed.
Everything is like chewing a tether.
The swarm.
Yuck.
It felt like entrails clogging the way forward.
She chewed.
Like she was chewing on a burning hot paperclip.
Eeek.
But whatever she was chewing snapped.
Withered.
There was a flushed silence.
Creeping feelings in her throat.
But that’s what a curse is.
You think you can chew it up fast.
So she did.
Chomped down as if she was scarfing down evil mosquitoes.
Gross.
That summer weight of a bibliophile,
my reading list has been growing a while.
Waiting for the backdrop of the ocean
to hurriedly crack open a new one.
Stuff your beach bag fill up your E-reader
Summer is here the weather is warmer.
It’s finally time to lighten the load,
with all the excitement I might explode.
A new author a new world to explore,
I soak it up and get hungry for more.
Riding shotgun down a fictitious road
I studied a law that became the code.
With every lesson making me stronger
the next chapter just needs to get longer.
So hard to beat such solitary fun,
that never needs an okay from someone.
Scarfing it all up I’m so full meanwhile
I lose the weight of a bibliophile.
This poem bares its teeth: a hyena,
laughter breaking in jagged bursts,
circling the margins,
menace felt in scuffling shadows.
From the dust it stirs,
half-laughter, half-watch,
a shuffle of shadows
breaking into frisk
rising upright: a meerkat,
eyes darting across horizons,
paws quick in sudden scurry,
a hesitant vigil before burrowing.
Between circling and scurry,
menace and play intertwine,
scarfing fragments into chorus
stretching across Savannah plains.
-
I eat like a pig, scarfing, grunting, chewing, not tasting.
I want to blame my metabolism for my corpulent gluttony.
I am planning my next meal as I scarf down this one.
A giant bowl of ham, beans and cornbread.
Thinking about it makes me happy as a fat sow in a garbage truck.
I need to take a little nap to get ready for my next feeding.
Two Silly Seals Limeridk
8/26/2023
Two silly seals were whooping it up.
Scarfing down,booze,cold ales and stuff.
Things got so dicey,
She,in the sea, icey.
His tears fall for her on moonlit nights.
He wants her back,to make things so right!
Bodies are always turning up in the bayou.
I stopped scarfing down my sandwich. My ears perked up.
I wondered what he meant.
He must have been sitting behind me in the next booth.
The waitress came by and tried to be friendly.
I usually am, but I was missing out on the rest of the story.
“At least fourteen foot long,” He said.
I heard laughter.
Did he mean tall? Or is he talking about aliens?
My ears strained to hear more, but whispering began.
More laughter.
I wished I had brought a better book to read.
The three coyotes
Watched this all unfold
Waiting for Sam to disappear
They knew they had a half
An hour
Before the OSP would appear
They pounced on Maria
Snarling hungry scarfing her
Drinking up her fresh blood
Ripping her Up for dinner,
Enjoying their unexpected
venison feast.
Jason the head coyote,
told the others
“Well, Sam might be a good guy,
For a human.
Tried to do the right thing,
But he killed her
And she died
For us to enjoy dinner.
Such is the way
Of the world
My brothers.
But he did us a favor
Maria is fresh meat
And we will feast well
Tonight, my brothers.
We will eat her up
But leave some
For our brothers,
The vultures,
Who are circling above
Patiently waiting
Their turn to have dinner.”
The OSP came
In due course
Saw the vultures
Finishing their dinner
Chased them off
Heard the contended coyotes
Howling at the moon
They called Sam Adams up
Said there was nothing
They could do
But let nature
Take its course.
Thus ended Maria’s
Close encounter
With humankind.
I hear folks sayin' they have the right
To determine what goes into their bodies,
They are putting up an audacious fight
While scarfing down alcoholic toddies.
We have no idea what’s in the foods we eat
Chemicals and preservatives are so prevalent,
While inking up our skin, thinking it’s so neat
While performing a most dangerous stunt.
We don’t like being told what to take
Especially when it comes from Uncle Sam,
But we eagerly turn to the government
When we get ourselves into a financial jam.
We take the pills our doctor prescribes
And, frankly, some that our doctor doesn’t
So why are we writing all these diatribes
And taking medical advice from a cousin?
If I have a question, I’ll trust Doctor Fauci,
Who’s studied immunology his whole life
Suffering through a tiny jab … an “ouchee”
And cut out all the phony-baloney strife!
writen October 19, 2021
This morning Joe got up to get ready for bed,
Wife poured his coffee and toast over his head
He put on his pajamas with a favorite red tie,
And set out for work as a local international spy.
He caught the bus at a distant subway station
While scarfing down French toast with bacon
He sat next to an attractive lady with pimples
Who caught him admiring her cheeky dimples
At his workshop he remained in the uber-lyft
Took out his AARP card, and generously tipped.
His workday over soon as he evened the score
His plane took off just as he opened the door.
Upon arriving in Rome, he went to the Louvre
Thought he might stay, but decided to move,
The Spanish did not care for his Russian accent
He bought a house but couldn’t pay the rent
Poor Joe never felt so disappointed in his life
Without a fare-thee-well, he had left his wife!
FIFTH PLACE WINNER
written September 6, 2021
especially for "Nonsense Rhyme" Poetry Contest
sponsored by Charles Messina
If I couldn’t read
I’d be saddened, indeed,
Also angry, frustrated and bored
For all that I need
Except love, I’ll concede,
Is some writing that’s striking a chord.
Many hours I’ll spend
Scarfing fiction on end
With The Times added in for a treat
And if you recommend
Some new book that’s on trend
That will help make my life more complete.
I am glad that my eyes,
Which I must emphasize
Have been trusty for many a year,
Still help me to surmise
Life is full of surprise,
Which may conjure a laugh or a tear.
Necklace -
Necklace
Marvel, turquoise
Collaring, scarfing, gem
Ever bejeweled ornamenting
Choker
8/8/20
written word by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020 ©
Like a zombie at a town picnic
Scarfing brains in my room, like a shtick
My costume I offed
For I retched and coughed
Mom said, "That was the ultimate trick!"
October 30th, 2019
9
9
5
5
9
From the moment he turned adult legal,
Triple B been hot rodding to the liquor sto’e
Making them daily late night beer runs,
and popping them tops with his beefy guns
Liquid numbmification is his stupor education,
sober thinking everyday takes a vacant eyes vacation
Guzzling and grunting,
brain cells mental growth stunting
Belching and barfing,
lager laced blue-in-the-face scarfing
Triple B don’t have a problem with none of that,
he’s a certified spud, who loves sucking down suds by the sack
His grandpa affectionately calls him Beer Belly Boy,
a Budweiser lunch box was his favorite childhood toy
He don’t mind people saying his six pack is a couple cans short,
as long as he delivers the moonshine on time to the rally point port
Triple B feels he’s living the life of a NASCAR rebel,
and his best friend Bo is a rowdy, hell-raising devil
Beer Belly Boy loves his favorite American girl,
dressed in her aluminum skirt and amber pearls
Beer Belly Boy, full of joy, gon crush kiss each empty can,
‘cause his gut feeling tells him this is the measure of a man
From the moment he turned adult legal,
Triple B been hot rodding to the liquor sto’e
Making them daily late night beer runs,
and popping them tops with his beefy guns
Liquid numbmification is his stupor education,
sober thinking everyday takes a vacant vacation
Guzzling and grunting,
brain cells mental growth stunting
Belching and barfing,
lager laced blue-in-the-face scarfing
Triple B don’t have a problem with none of that,
he’s a certified spud, who loves sucking down suds by the sack
His grandpa affectionately calls him Beer Belly Boy,
a Budweiser lunch box was his favorite childhood toy
He don’t mind people saying his six pack is a couple cans short,
as long as he delivers the moonshine on time to the rally point port
Triple B feels he’s living the life of a NASCAR rebel,
and his best friend Bo is a rowdy, hell-raising devil
Beer Belly Boy loves his favorite American girl,
dressed in her aluminum skirt and amber pearls
Beer Belly Boy, full of joy, gon crush kiss each empty can,
‘cause his gut feeling tells him this is the measure of a man
When I think of pies
I think of my son Kev,
when it comes to baking pies
he is a master chef,
when I think of pies
I think of my younger sister Eileen,
my Dads nickname for her
was "Pies" when she was 2 or 3,
when I think of pies
I think of Wal-mart,
with their bakery aisle
tempting us with the
different varieties and aromas,
when I think of pies
I think about Thanksgiving,
and how we Americans
love to give thanks
by scarfing down
about half a dozen,
when I think of pies
I think of pizza,
with Dominoes,
Little Caesars, Papa Johns
and Marcos and their
customers coming and going,
when I think of pies
I think of Dean Martin,
crooning to us his song
about the moon and
pizza pie in "Thats Amore,"
and last if not least
when I think of pies I sigh
and thank God I'm not
a mathematician,
because I think of pies enough
as it is and worry I'll soon
be fat instead of thin!
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